


Rub You the Right Way

by mrs_squirrel_chester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester NSFW, Dean Winchester Smut, Dean Winchester Threesome, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, John Winchester NSFW, John Winchester SMUT, John Winchester Threesome, NSFW, No Incest, Sexual Content, Smut, Winchester Threesome, Winchester Threesome NO INCEST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 11:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6236626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_squirrel_chester/pseuds/mrs_squirrel_chester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a hunt, John and Dean find a way to come down from the adrenaline rush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rub You the Right Way

No matter how many darts he threw, no matter how many games of pool he played, John couldn’t come down from the adrenaline rush that came after the hunt. The werewolf had been put down, the family professed their undying thanks, and here he stood; glass of whiskey in hand and foot propped against the wall. The liquor was doing very little to dull his senses. If anything, the aged whiskey seemed to be heightening them.

The _crack_ of cue against striped and solid balls was almost deafening, darts landing in cork seemed to echo in the small game room, and there was this deep, underlying pulse… it was almost electric, humming along every inch of his skin, raising the hairs on the back of his neck, tightening the coil in his belly. He wanted, _needed_ to get laid.

Dean stood next to his father, mirroring his stance, and handed him another glass, “you feel it, too?”

Setting the empty glass on the bar, John _hmmm_ ’d as he took a drink. Dark chocolate eyes surveyed the crowd, searching for someone that could help dull the deep ache.

He was just about to give up, tell Dean to fire up the Impala while he settled the tab, when she walked in. She wasn’t drop dead gorgeous by today’s standards, but she had an air of confidence about her that drove a shiver down his spine.

Her hair was y/c, long, and thick, swishing against her leather jacket as she walked. Y/c eyes sparkled in the dim light as she strode in, hips swaying to the beat of unheard music. She must have felt the weight of John and Dean’s gaze, because the next thing they knew, she was at the end of the bar, smiling.

“Haven’t seen you here before.”

 _Fuck._ Her voice was smooth like velvet and John knew, he just knew it would sound amazing as she screamed his name. “Just passing through on business. Name’s John.”

She took his hand, chewing on her bottom lip as his callouses bit into her soft skin. “Y/N, welcome to y/town.”

Dean extended his hand, flashing a smile that John had seen many times before, “Dean.”

It wasn’t difficult to notice the flush in her neck or the hitch in her chest. With blown pupils, she looked over them as if dissecting each individual trait. They must have met her criteria, because the next thing she said was, “who do I gotta fuck to get a drink around here?”

* * *

Inside their motel room, Y/N stood in front of John, never breaking eye contact as she stripped out of her jacket and kicked off her shoes. Father and son did the same after Dean locked the door.

Standing behind her, Dean pushed the hair off her neck and ran his nose along her baby powder scented skin. If she thought his voice was rough before, she was in for a rude awakening, “Jesus, you smell good, darlin’.”

She tipped her head to the side, eyes rolling back when a set of sinfully full lips pressed against her pulse point. “You should smell the rest of me.”

John’s eyes drilled into hers, “trust me, we will.”

Haven’t shaved in four days scruff bit into her chin when he kissed her; open-mouthed, demanding, intrusive, thorough. Dean’s hand was on her waist, pulling her ass back as his cock went rigid, twitching against the button fly.

She reached back and grabbed Dean’s ass, digging her nails into the denim until it hurt. Her other hand was in John’s hair, tugging on the salt and pepper strands as he ground into her, bowing his shoulders, moaning against her tongue. The whiskey was strong on her tongue and lips, and he kissed her as if he wanted nothing more than to get drunk off of her.

Dean slid a hand under the thin tank, palming her breast through the lace bra. Her nipple pebbled beneath his touch, the lace biting into the sensitive skin made her moan into John’s mouth.

Y/N’s head fell back against Dean’s shoulder, turning to kiss the younger Winchester as John licked and nipped at the column of her neck and shoulder. While Dean slid his hand between the lace to pinch and tweak her nipples, John undid her jeans, popping open the button fly.

Her trimmed curls bit into his fingertips as he cupped her pussy. Soaked panties rest against the back of his hand, and when she took a wider stance, he worked his fingers back and forth between wet, throbbing lips.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for us.” His hot breath blasted against her ear before he sucked on the lobe, pulling it roughly between his teeth.

Dean, with one hand in her bra and the other on her hip, worked her body back and forth with his, driving his father’s fingers into her pussy. “I bet you’re tight, aren’t you?”

With her hands full of Winchester hair, she groaned at the way John’s callouses drug against her, the way they crooked into her g-spot, the way his palm circled her clit.

“She’s so tight, Dean. I don’t know if she can handle us.”

Y/N keened as she clamped onto John’s skilled fingers, shuddering as she came. Her eyes rolled back as static burst in her ears, thrumming through her as if she had been electrocuted. She gasped for air as John pushed his fingers between her lips, covering her tongue and lips with her slick.

As John sucked and licked the remaining juices from his hand, Dean spun Y/N around, and kissed her hard; tasting her bittersweet slick. While she undressed the younger Winchester, the remaining of her clothes were removed by both of them; John was the last one to toss his clothes to the floor.

Both men were painfully hard, wanting nothing more than to push into her sweet center, but they would each get their turn; they just had to be patient.

While kissing Y/N, Dean led her to the couch. Dropping to a cushion, he leaned back, and with a smirk, he began to stroke himself; spreading the beads of pre-cum along his thick length.

She didn’t have to be told what to do, she knew what they wanted because she wanted it to. Using the binder on her wrist, she tied her hair in a pony before kneeling on the couch. One hand was planted on the cushion while the other cupped Dean’s heavy balls, squeezing and pinching, rolling them between her fingertips. With a smirk and wink, she flicked her tongue out, moaning when the salty drops hit her taste buds.

Wrapping her lips around his velvet cockhead, she flicked her tongue again, dipping into his slit. Dean’s hand fell away, only to be replaced by hers. She took as much of him as she could in her mouth, her hand stroking whatever she couldn’t reach.

As Dean wound his hand into her hair, urging his cock deeper into her mouth and throat, John came up behind Y/N and swatted her shapely ass. She pushed it back, seeking him out, so he rewarded her with another slap. Then another, and another. Even giving her pussy a slap. She almost came again when he did that.

After rolling on a condom, he stood behind her and drug the wide head of his cock through her lips, teasing her clit and spreading her slick before pushing into her slowly. Biting his bottom lip, he watched as she enveloped him, felt every quiver of muscle as she stretched, moaned low and heavy when she pushed back into him.

Dean’s head had fallen back, eyes closed, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip while she sucked him off. Her cheeks had hallowed and if he tilted his head just right, John could see her strain as Dean’s cock choked her.

John pulled back and with a borderline feral growl, he grabbed her hips and slammed himself home.

Y/N gagged on Dean’s cock then, gasping for air and moaning at the same time once her mouth was free. Her hand pumped him as John took her roughly from behind. Heavy balls slapped her clit with every thrust and just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, Dean forced her mouth back on him.

It didn’t matter that she couldn’t breathe for a minute, because honestly, that fueled the orgasm building in her belly. It imploded when he thrust a particular way, slamming his head into her g-spot. She ripped her mouth from Dean’s cock, squeezing it as she came with a cry.

“That’s it, baby,” John panted. His hips began to stutter as his balls grew tight, and with his eyes clamped shut, he came; pulsing as she twitched around him. It didn’t matter that he filled the condom or that he had already begun to go soft, he kept thrusting; slower and slower, drawing the orgasm out as long as he could for her.

She hissed as pain ate at her orgasm, growling when she was suddenly empty.

Dean grabbed her by the upper arms and pulled her onto his lap, “my turn.” A condom was slapped into his open hand, which he rolled on while Y/N played with her breasts, tugging none too gently on her nipples.

“Hurry,” she all but whined as she started grinding on him, feeling the thick length of him between her lips.

With the condom rolled on, Dean bit his lower lip before she grabbed his shoulders. There was nothing easy or slow about the way he entered her. All the air was driven from her lungs as her head fell back and her breasts bounced.

Y/N arched her back, presenting her breasts to Dean. He wrapped his full lips around a nipple and sucked, dragging sharp teeth over the pebbled skin. With calloused hands on her hips and feet planted firmly on the floor, Dean slammed into her again and again, filling the room with the sounds of his balls slapping her ass.

Watching and listening to her come undone, John couldn’t help but get aroused again. His cock grew hard, harder when she looked at him over her shoulder. She watched with lust blown pupils as he stroked himself languidly.

Dean’s grip on Y/N’s hips eased and his head fell back after he came, his throat hoarse from shouting her name as if it were a prayer. His tongue darted out, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, hissing when she stood.

She stopped in front of John and replaced his hand with hers, sweeping her thumb over his seeping tip. “I need a shower.”

* * *

With a groan, John rolled over, finding himself alone in the queen sized bed. Sitting up, he spied a note on the edge of the table. John, naked and not caring if his son emerged from the bathroom at that point, walked to the table and read the hastily scribbled note.

_Thanks for a good time. If you ever find yourself out this way again, you know where I’ll be._

The shower turned off, and before he could think about what he was doing, John shoved the note in his jacket pocket. Next time, he wanted her all to himself.


End file.
